


Bake Off!

by thepeoplespoetisdead



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Baking, Cake, Cooking, Cooking Show, Cupcake - Freeform, Gay, M/M, Pie, TV Show, cook - Freeform, tv
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-02 02:08:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1051283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepeoplespoetisdead/pseuds/thepeoplespoetisdead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bake Off! Is a tough baking show which has gripped the nation, ever since it started 8 years ago. The real reason why Castiel Novak watches, however, is not because of his love for baking. It is in fact because of one of the co-hosts, a Mr. Dean Winchester. He and his brother, Sam, present the show with judges, Crowley and Naomi. Together, they fire one baker a week and give one the award of 'Top Baker'. However, things get complicated when Castiel and his brother, Gabriel both get a spot as contestant on the show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the GBBO (of which this is loosely based) or Supernatural or any of the characters or concepts in any of them. This is purely a work of fiction made to entertain.

They were both sitting on the edge of the comfy, yet cheap, couch. Both of their eyes widened in suspense (yet Castiel would never admit to it). Both of them were sweating, so absorbed in the TV in front of them, Gabriel didn’t realise he was holding his breath.  
‘And the winner is…’  
Gabriel had been obsessed with this show since it first came out, 9 years ago. It was a pretty simple set up. Two judges, 10 contestants. Each week, they bake something and the judges vote on someone leaving and one person as ‘Top Baker’, until the final where out of the three remaining, the audience would vote as to who they decided would not go through. Simple enough, yet why was it SO addictive, Castiel pondered.  
‘… Becky!’ The woman on screen screamed and shouted, hugging both the judges (who, Castiel might add, had faces set in stone) and jumping with joy as she won Bake off! 2013.   
Gabriel jumped up, fist pounded the air and shouted ‘Boo-YA!’ As he jumped on the sofa and started poking his little brother, all the while his baby brother, Castiel, acted as if nothing special had happened. On the inside, he was extremely upset- her puff pastry was not up to standard and he knew for a fact he could cook a better Opera Cake than her.  
‘She won! She won! She won! In your face, baby brother!’ With one final (especially hard) poke, he jumped off the sofa and made his way to his brother’s kitchen, taking one of Castiel’s lemon drizzle cupcakes which were sitting on the side in an antique glass cheese dome (present from Gabriel, Xmas ’08).  
‘Orgasmic, Cas. Purely orgasmic.’  
‘I would prefer it if you didn’t use that word around your brother, Gabe.’ Was all he said, still staring at the screen in disbelief. That and hope. Hope, that the REAL reason he watched the show would come on sometime soon.  
That real reason was one of the two hosts, Dean Winchester. After opening a restaurant in New York in the 90’s with his brother, Sam, The Colt quickly became the most exclusive place to dine in the state. Once they sold, they soon became personalities in the cooking world, hosting a number of cooking shows, and then this, which is now one of the most watched shows in the USA.  
‘And now, who will win Bake Off 2014?’ His husky voice asked the camera as it zoomed in on his emerald eyes. Castiel drew in a breath and suppressed the warm, fuzzy feeling at the pit of his stomach.  
‘So, are you gonna?’ An overly-annoying voice from right next to him asked Castiel, spraying him with spit and lemon zest.  
‘Do what?’  
‘Apply!’  
‘For this?’ He gestured to the scrolling credits on the TV screen now. Gabriel thought he hated it, and he had to keep it up; couldn’t let him know about his crush (and that was just it, crush, he reminded himself) on Dean Winchester or else he’d never stop with the harassment.   
‘No, The Voice! Of course for this! If you do, I will!’  
‘But you know they’ll only except one of us…’  
‘Exactly, so you’d just be applying for the sake of it, really. To help me. You know, make me seem better compared to you!’  
Castiel playfully hit him and giggled- he did have a point. Last year, over 13,000 people applied, and only 10 people actually made it to the TV.  
‘Fine.’ He said as monotone as possible, but there was a hint of excitement in his voice.

2 months later  
December 2013

Dean Winchester didn’t know what he was doing with his life. Sure, he was conventionally good looking with an endless gaggle of ladies (most of who knew how to bake) after him and a career in Television, but he just didn’t feel… content. Maybe he’d take a break from all this after this last series, he thought.  
‘So, Moose. What d’ya think?’ Crowley, judge number one, asked his brother, Sam. Hard, British, tough to impress, he was bad cop of the judges.  
‘I don’t know. Naomi?’ He replied, asking for the opinion in judge number 2. Hard, American and tough to impress, she was also bad cop. The show was often criticized for how harsh the judges were, but in reality, they were honest and not many people can take it.  
‘I don’t know either. Dean?’  
‘Huh… what?’ He had been completely involved in moping and thinking about his future, not next year’s participants.  
‘We’ve got two brothers here, one more experienced than the other, one more attractive than the other, one funnier than the other. Which one?’  
‘For defenate, one of them?’  
‘Yeah. They’re both as engaging as one another. Which one?’  
‘Uh… both?’ Dean said, not really sure what was going on.  
The other three just looked around at each other and nodded.  
‘It would add a great family dynamic to it, make it a bit more competitive.’ Sam said, on board with his brother.  
‘Yeah but afterwards it’ll make family dinners a bitch.’ Dean said, finally catching on.  
‘Fine. Both.’ Crowley said, putting the applications of ‘Castiel Novak’ and ‘Gabriel Novak’ into the ‘TV’ pile. Only 14,000 more to go. 

2 moths later   
February 2014

It was a plain brown envelope. They’d arrived at the separate addresses of the Novak brother’s on the same day. Gabriel immediately phoned up Castiel.  
‘I got it, Cas!’  
Cas stared in surprise at his envelope, making sure it was actually from Bake Off! It had the mock-crest logo in the back. This was it.  
‘Well, so did I.’ He said.  
‘Maybe they send out a sorry letter.’ Gabriel suggested, his shoulders slacking considerably and tears beginning to well up as he realised his hopes had been brought up for nothing. That show had really taken him out of a dark place and given him something to live for.   
‘I don’t know, wouldn’t that be like, 20,000 letters? Just come round to mine. I baked strawberries and cream cupcakes.’  
‘Oh, yeah… okay. See you in 10 then.’  
Gabriel drove round to Castiel’s apartment as fast as he could (which was relatively easy considering he drove an Audi R8.  
His knock on Castiel’s old wooden door was as fast as his heartbeat, and Castiel could tell, just from his knock how anxious he really was. He opened it and Gabe stormed straight passed him and jumped over the worn sofa and landed perfectly cross-leggidly.  
‘Okay, let’s do this already, Cas.’  
‘Don’t you want a…’ Castiel started, gesturing towards the beautiful pink strawberries and cream cupcakes with just a swirl of frosting and a candied slice of strawberry.  
‘No! Let’s just do it!’  
Cas slowly walked over, grabbing his letter off of the coffee table and sat down next to his brother. Ironically, he thought, in the same position as they sat during the final.   
They both ripped it open at the same time. They both scanned the short paragraph at the same time, and both shouted  
‘I GOT IN!’ At the same time.   
They both stared at each other in shock horror, at the same time.


	2. Week 1

Seeing as they both lived in New York (Gabe in a swanky Penthouse Bachelor pad and Castiel in an old, 1920’s apartment block) they didn’t have to drive very far. They took Castiel’s beat up mini cooper, which Cas could barely fit his legs into as they bolted down Midtown and past the Upper East Side.  
They’d been receiving letters (it was nicer, Castiel noted, than emails these days) over the past two months about what to do, conduct, baking etc… But despite the fact Castiel was going to be recorded for TV in less than two hours, his heart was set on something entirely different.  
Dean. Even his name made him smile, as it evoked the most beautiful face he could think of in his mind. His smile, flashing his pearly whites. His eyes, that un-naturally beautiful emerald green. Even his body, toned, but not too muscled, under the casual clothing he wears on screen. Wow. Castiel hadn’t realised how deeply he’d fallen for this guy, until now, and he was about to meet him.  
‘Uh, Cas, we just passed the place.’ Gabe said, looking down at his latest IPhone, using the map app on it.  
Cas was so deep in thought he didn’t realise, and had to go round the block again.  
The parked in free underground parking beneath the TV studio and got a lift up to reception.  
‘Here for… Bake Off?’ Cas asked as politely as possible to the woman behind reception. She was filing her nails whilst talking on the phone whilst eating a bag of chips whilst typing what he presumed to be an email, so she just jabbed the air the in the direction of the elevator and through a full mouth said ‘6’.

Gabe and Cas started walking towards the elevator, both of them extremely anxious, when a warm hand grabbed both of their shoulders and squeezed ever so slightly.

Dean was coming up from parking Baby in the underground parking unit when he spotted who he now realized was the two brothers; there was a lot of talk about them behind the set. Dean had seen a picture of both of them; the short, wavy haired one with a beaky nose who reminded Dean of his own brother and… the other one. He had a very peculiar name, Castiel, which made Dean want to know everything about this enigma. The picture had made Dean swoon; his bed hair (which DID NOT make Dean think about giving him bed hair), his pale skin, 5 o’clock stubble and piercing blue eyes. They weren’t too washed out like Lisa’s, whose were more grey. No, these were as clear as day and as bright as the Sun. They looked like the kind of eye which could look into your soul and lock onto your eyes for an eternity.

Dean was no stranger to these feelings for men; he knew he was bisexual, his brother did, and that was all that mattered. The media saw him as a player, but he was far from it. Vulnerable, for one thing. Lonely, for another.  
So, when he saw the backs of the two brother’s he’d gotten to know so well through the application process, he couldn’t resist. One of them in a flannel shirt (so much like Sammy, Dean thought) and the other, Castiel, in a sexy trench coat. He placed a hand on each of their shoulders (hoping not to frighten them).  
‘Hi.’ He said. They both turned around simultaneously.  
The older one, Gabriel, Dean corrected himself, stared at him with confusion for 0.2 seconds before that look that every other contestant gave him, admiration. He had done what every single person who applied for this show had hoped for, and he realised it. Not a day went by where he didn’t think of someone else, often donating to charity (in secret, of course).  
Castiel, on the other hand, gazed at him with a look Dean could not place. It made his legs turn to jelly however when he tried to keep his composure.  
‘Uh, hi again.’ He managed, staring right back into those blue eyes he’d fantasized about for the past two months. The eyes were even more piercing in real life and he felt like they were looking into him. He could stare at the perfectly aqua blue for days, unfortunately, Gabriel broke them off.  
‘Uh, hi. Gabriel. Contestant, big fan.’ He said, holding out his hand.  
‘Hi, Gabe. You must be his brother, Castiel, then.’ Dean managed. He shook Gabe’s hand and then gave Cas a quick once over (relishing in a toned, yet not too muscled body with bumps in all the right places- he’d have a field day with fantasies tonight, he thought) before shaking his hand. It was like electricity had run through him, coursing through his veins and making him hold on for just a second too long, before Gabriel once again interrupted.  
‘So, you ready to do this?’  
‘Uh yeah. Come with me. 6th floor.’ Dean said, leading the way to the elevators.  
Just as they arrived, a large group of film crew, plus their massive cameras, got in the elevator.  
‘Room for one more.’ An anonymous voice said from the back.  
The trio stared at each other awkwardly until Gabriel stepped in.  
‘See you all on the other side.’ He said, saluting Dean and Castiel as the doors closed.  
The next elevator arrived soon afterwards and as soon as Dean pressed the 6th floor button, he felt a jolt.  
‘Uh-oh.’ He said aloud.  
‘What?’ Castiel asked, his voice sounding like he’d gargled broken glass. God, it did things to Dean.  
‘These elevators are as old as the building itself; 1950s. They brake down quite often, never been replaced.’  
‘And you’re mentioning this because…’ Castiel was interrupted by a very large jolt which shook both him and Dean off of their feet, bumping into each other and landing on the floor with a huff. Dean was lying ontop of Castiel.  
No. Castiel’s inner monologue said. That can’t be. It’s his phone. It has to be. It can’t be…  
Castiel could feel something hard against his leg. Must be his phone, he reasoned. No way… It was exceptionally big, he thought… no!  
Dean quickly jumped off Castiel, facing the wall and pretending to toy with the buttons while trying to get his erection to calm down. Jesus Fucking Christ, he thought. Why? Why now? Oh yeah, that’s why. Cause I was lying on top of the guy who I’ve been fantasizing about. Great. Dean thought bad thoughts until he could turn around. He found Castiel, with extra bed head, his trench coat and jacket off, his button-up buttoned-down the first few buttons and his sleeves roled up to his elbows. Wow, Dean thought. That was sexy.  
‘How long are we going to be in here?’ He asked.  
‘Sorry.’ He said, looking down at his discarded trench coat. ‘It’s really hot.’  
‘It’s uh… ugh… fine.’ Dean stammered.  
‘And the firemen could be anytime from half an hour to four hours. I think 5 is the record.’  
He sat down in a corner and Castiel came and sat next to him. A little too close, if Dean thought about it.  
‘So, may as well pass the time. Tell me something about yourself, Mr. Winchester.’  
And over the next two hours, they talked. They talked and talked until the firemen began banging on the door. They were great friends as they left the elevator, and Dean was even disappointed to see the fireman and Sam as they lifted them out. Dean could tell though, as a fireman checked his vitals, that he was falling. And hard.  
Once make-up and wardrobe had worked their magic on each of the 10 contestants, they were assigned to their work benches and set the task.  
‘Welcome, Bake Off team of 2014.’ Dean began, pacing around the front of the room. It was very large and open plan, with a very kitsch, vintage feel to it with Cath Kidston fabrics and pastel equipment.  
‘Your first challenge is to create a chocolate cake. Go crazy.’ Sam said.  
‘You have two hours. Good luck. Your time starts…’  
‘Now!’ They both said in unison.  
For the next two hours, Castiel kept his head down and refused to look at any of the other contestants. Do not worry yourself, he thought. Get a move on and worry when you’re finished. Not even Gabe.  
It was uniform for the judges and Sam and Dean and a cameraman to do a quick interview with you while you were baking, so Castiel was prepared. Even so, he felt his already nervous heart rate increase and the sweat on his brow was coming thicker and faster now as he beat the frosting.  
‘So, Cas, what are you making?’ Dean asked, leaning in a little to close, just to catch a scent of the man he’d befriended. He smelled delicious, like chocolate and musk and aftershave.  
‘Uh… a strawberry and chocolate themed love cake. It’ll have pink hearts in the middle, made from this cake pop mould, this a rich strawberry frosting running through the middle. It’ll be decorated in a marbled red and pink frosting and some candied strawberries on top.’  
‘Sounds delicious. That just made me salivate.’  
I wonder what else I can do to make you salivate, Castiel thought. Dammit, Cas! He scolded himself. Concentrate!  
As the half and hour, 10 minute, 5 minute and 1 minute warnings rolled around, Castiel moved about his kitchen area with effortless grace, getting into the swing of things and finding himself on schedule, for once.  
‘Times up!’ Sam and Dean shouted in unison. Castiel stepped back. His frosting had been swirled on and made to look messy for effect, and he had just had time to sprinkle the hardened candied strawberries before stepping back and placing his hands behind his head, running them through his hair before his eyes locked with Deans. Dean looked down at the finished cake, up to him and licked his lips. Castiel had no idea which one he was licking his lips at, but he knew which one he hoped for.  
They all took their cakes to the front. Gabriel had gone candy mad, as usual, making his into the shape of a candy bar, using marzipan as the wrapper, and damn, did it look good. The other contestants did quite well, but they didn’t measure up to Gabe. They all obviously came from different backgrounds as they took a seat behind each of their workstations as the judges began to judge.  
A ginger woman stepped up first, seeming full of herself.  
Next, was Gabe.  
Then was a large coloured man who looked like a hired killer.  
Next was a sweet lady in a Ramones vest.  
Then a young, good looking man stepped forward.  
Next was a man who had something off about him. The way he walked just looked… off.  
Then was a large black woman who looked like a mother hen.  
Next was a young girl who didn’t look a day over 18.  
Pen ultimately, a sexy, stubbly British man with a London accent strolled up, looking like he owned the place.  
And then was Cas.  
‘So, Castiel what did you bake for us today?’ Naomi asked.  
‘Uh… strawberries and chocolate cake.’ He managed to get out. Fuck, he thought. He never realised just how hard it is too come up here and speak to the judges.  
They cut it open and were very happy about the hidden hearts, Dean in particular. They said the strawberry frosting was ‘to die for’ which made Castiel do acrobats inside his head.  
After he was sent back and there was some mumbling and then Crowley spoke up.  
‘And now for the Top Baker award of the week. This cake captured my heart… it’s Castiel!’  
Castiel blushed deeply. He didn’t even want to be here in the first place and now he was, with Top Baker! Amazing! He looked up at the judges, sitting on wooden chairs behind a grand oak dining table, which added to the vintage effect.  
‘Now, unfortunately, one of you has to go. We’re very sorry…’  
Castiel made a silent prayer to whoever was listening that it wasn’t Gabriel. He didn’t know how it could be him, with his candy bar cake, but this meant so much to him, Cas almost felt like a traitor taking part.  
‘…Abbaddon.’  
The ginger woman got up on her skyscraper heels and stormed off, leaving everyone physically relieved. Castiel looked up at the judges, and Dean caught his eye. He winked and Castiel blushed even more.  
All the contestants in turn walked up to him and gave him a pat on the back or hug; he even began to learn a few of their names; Jo, the college graduate, Balthazar the model and Missouri the foster parent. It was going to be a tough 7 weeks.


	3. Week 2

‘Welcome back to Bake Off, here’s what you missed last week.’   
‘And here’s Quiche week’   
Dean said into the camera. It was the last thing in the day the presenters did; film all the fillers. Cas just stood at his workbench and tried to look busy, but his mind was elsewhere.  
All the cast and crew were going out for celebratory drinks tonight. Dean was going. Dean. Man, was he falling hard for that spiky haired, green eyed beauty. Unfortunately, so was the whole of America. Unfortunately, he had a penis. For all he knew, Dean was straight. Sam and Gabe on the other hand were getting on fine. Too fine. Sam was always at Gabe’s workbench while they were filming and baking, leaning over or laughing at his jokes. Gabe just lapped up the attention, and Cas thought of himself as unlucky enough to witness Gabe letting Sam lick some of the cake mixture off of his finger. Ew.   
Once they finished, they all walked to the car park in awkward small talk. The producers liked to film it as close to real time as possible, so they had only known each other for a week.   
‘Uh, to save room, you can come in my car, you know, if you want?’ Dean asked Cas as he walked next to him.  
‘Oh, I’d love too, but my brother catches a ride with me anyway. Sorry.’  
‘It’s fine, something tells me him and Sam will be driving together.’ They both looked ahead to see them walking closely… too closely and bumping into each other, obviously flirting.  
‘Okay then.’  
They approached a black 4 door retro car. Cas didn’t know what type because he wasn’t into cars as much as Gabe, but he could tell it was Dean’s pride and joy.  
‘Ah, baby.’ Dean said with relief as he unlocked it.  
‘What year?’ Cas asked, trying to sound as if he knew about cars.  
‘1967. Handed down to my by my father.’ Castiel gingerly got in it.  
‘You like cars then? Dean asked Castiel when he plugged the key into the ignition.  
‘Um… some types…’ He deliberately tried to sound vague.  
‘It’s fine man. Each to their own.’ And with that, they pulled out of the car park.  
Damn. Hot Damn. Castiel thought to himself. Dean’s profile was almost black, only illuminated by the soft glow of the Manhattan street lamps as they drove around the city. His face was even more beautiful in the Twilight that is the New York night, Cas thought to himself as he stared in wonder.  
‘So, what do you work as?’ Dean asked Castiel. It wasn’t an awkward silence they had been sat in. No, it was comfortable, yet he was still eager to talk to Castiel. He just wanted to talk, to get to know every detail about his life.  
‘Did you read my application form?’  
‘Yeah. Never knew a person could bake so many pies.’  
‘There my speciality actually. But what I’m saying is, you already know I’m an accountant for a law firm. Why put me through the pain of saying so?’ Dean chuckled a bit at this. Cas noticed the way his hands gripped the wheel, firm yet gently. He wanted to be gripped like this.  
‘Just trying to get the conversation going. Why d’you chose that… career path?’  
‘I wanted to be an author. Never really took off I guess. Math just clicked. That’s it, really.’  
‘That’s so interesting. Write any novels?’  
‘A few. No publishers wanted them, though. Gabe said they were good, but in the end, he isn’t Harper Collins or anything like that.’  
Dean looked down for a brief moment, sad at that revelation. He then looked over at Castiel, who was gazing straight at him as if in a trance. He did look slightly defeated though.  
Without realizing it, Dean’s hand made it’s way slowly from the gear stick to Castiel’s, which was resting on his thigh. It slowly wormed it’s way around his fingers, entwining them. Castiel jumped initially at the gesture, but soon melted with Dean’s touch. It was so comforting; such a simple gesture that made everything in the world pale away into insignificance.   
Then, all of a sudden, they had arrived. The Colt. The most exclusive place in the whole of New York to dine. Of course they’d get in, Sam and Dean owned and made this joint. Dean got outside and greeted the valet with a hug which made a pang of jealousy erupt in Castiel.  
‘Alfie, my man! How’s it going?’ Dean said. When he pulled away, Castiel was suddenly put at ease realising Alfie was in fact not a day older than 18.  
Dean handed him the keys and went inside. They were the last to arrive, and seemingly by quite a while. Everybody already had their drinks, and when they walked in they got tipsy ‘Heys’ from everyone, including Gabe and Sam, who were practically on top of each other.  
Zeke, Uriel, Jo, Missouri, Pam, Balthazar and Lucifer all sat round a table towards the back, with a ‘reserved’ sign already on Balthazar’s head.  
‘I’m sorry I hope you don’t mind being a bit late. I just enjoyed spending time with you so I took a quick detour instead, if that’s alright.’ Dean whispered in Castiel’s ear as they sat down on the uber-posh seats.  
‘Anything.’ Castiel said in return.  
The meal went without incident and one by one the now drunk contestants peeled away until their was just the two sets of brothers left standing.  
‘Well, we best be off…’ Gabriel said in a drunken slur, puling the giant up to his feet.  
‘No. It’s not safe for you to drive.’ Castiel said.  
‘I only had a beer when we got in. I’ll be fine.’ Sam said, turning to leave.  
‘Fine. Be safe.’ Dean said.  
Dean and Cas left about an hour afterwards, drinking wine and talking about things. Anything and everything until Castiel was certain he knew everything there is to know about Dean Winchester, and he loved every bit of it.  
Dean dropped Castiel off at his house, much regretting as he drove away not giving him a goodbye kiss. Little did he know, Castiel was thinking the exact same thing.  
Meanwhile, across the city in a beautiful penthouse suite that overlooked the whole of Manhattan, Sam was eating cake.  
‘This is the best black forest gateau I’ve ever had!’ He exclaimed as he took another monster bite from the cake that was being practically forced into his face.  
‘Yeah, I like to bake. You may have noticed.’ Gabe said, before pulling the plate and fork away from the man sitting next to him.  
‘What was that for?’ Same asked as Gabriel put them down on the glass coffee table.  
‘This.’ Gabriel said. Even if he was only half as hammered as he was, he would never have even attempted what he was about to do.  
He planted his lips straight onto Sam’s, his stubble tickling his soft, rosy cheeks.  
He was greeted with a slightly shocked return, which quickly turned into something else. Sam opened his mouth, with it’s chapped lips and awkward teeth, to press his tongue against Gabriel’s mouth. Gabriel in return opened his and their tongue’s danced together beautifully. Gabriel let a few soft moans escape when Sam wrapped one of his plaid arms around him and pulled him up into his lap, so Gabe was now straddling him. Gabe ran his hands through Sam’s deliciously long and soft hair as Sam wrapped his arms around him once again, pulling him closer. When Gabriel gently rutted against Sam’s crotch, he could feel just how hard… and big… he was. It made him even harder thinking about having that big fat cock inside of him.  
Sam moaned when Gabriel practically humped him, and pulled away from the kiss, which was now becoming desperate, to whisper;  
‘What room?’ His voice was as soft as a blanket but as dirty as a whore, with all the implications of what’s to come. It made Gabriel melt and close his eyes as he slowly started to grind on Sam again, making them both moan loudly.  
‘Third door to the right.’ Gabriel whispered against Sam’s neck, where he was peppering kisses in-between soft nibbles of the skin and aggressive bites, his style switching every 5 seconds from passionate to loving.  
Gabriel felt Sam’s big, strong hands on his bum and suddenly, he was flying. When he leaned into kiss Sam desperately, he realised Sam had lifted him up. He wrapped his legs around Sam’s torso as Sam carried him towards the bedroom, smacking lips with the much larger man as his hands worked through his hair again and again, desperate to feel as much of Sam as possible.  
Before he knew it, he was laid down softly onto the bed, it’s cold bed sheets making him sharply draw in a breath.  
‘What?’ Sam whispered, now bearing down over Gabriel. Gabe’s legs were still wrapped tightly around Sam, and he wasn’t going to give him up any time soon.  
‘We shouldn’t be doing this.’ Gabe said as Sam kissed his way down from his earlobe, to his neck and down to his collarbone, before tugging at Gabriel’s shirt collar with his teeth.  
Damn, that was sexy, Gabriel thought. Or rather he tried too, because the alcohol was in control at the moment.  
‘Well, are you going to stop?’ Sam asked. His hands went straight to Gabriel’s shirt buttons, starting from the bottom and undoing every one until he was able to push back the two sides and give Gabriel’s torso affection.  
His tongue worked wonders as it drew a delicious trail to one of Gabriel’s nipples, gently drawing circles around it until his whole mouth engulfed the rosy nub, making Gabriel shout out.  
‘You like that, do you? What else do you like?’ Sam asked through licking, while gently rubbing the other one with his fingers.  
‘I want you t… to… ughh… fuck me. Fuck me hard Sam until the neighbours he me scream your name when I come from your big hard cock inside me!’  
Sam looked up at Gabriel, his puppy eyes seeming entirely inappropriate for the moment.  
‘That can be arranged.’ Was all he said, before he went back to work.   
Gabriel’s erection was now painful in his pants as Sam gently licked and nibbled his way down to his belt. Once he got there, he simply gazed up at Gabriel, refusing to loose eye contact as he undid the belt buckle with his teeth.   
‘Fucking do it, Sam.’ Gabriel hissed as Sam roughly pulled down his jeans and yanked off his boxers.  
Sam hovered in wonder for a second over Gabriel’s cock. Gabriel knew it was above average, but to make Sam, who was no one inch wonder from what he felt earlier, stop and stare, he must’ve been something.  
And then suddenly the chill of the night air was taken away by a warm, wet, sloppy engulfment of a mouth. It made Gabriel practically scream as he felt Sam on his cock, his hands gently massaging his balls.  
Sam licked the vein on the underside, kissed the tip and sucked until Gabe was right on the edge and then gently tapped his thigh as he bobbed up and down on him.   
Gabe got the signal and thrusted his hips up to meet Sam’s mouth. Soon, they fell into a rhythm and he was fucking Sam’s mouth. Sam Winchester, the TV star with about a gazzlion dollars to his name. The TV star who was currently being fucked in the face.  
Gabe moaned and thrusted until he had to gently pat Sam, removing his hands from his hair where they had been tightly entwined and giving him the signal to stop.  
‘Gonna… cu…’ Was all he managed to get out.  
Sam removed his mouth and moved up Gabriel’s body. Gabe didn’t realize how arousing it was for him to be completely submissive to Sam, where he was completely naked and Sam was fully dressed. As hot as it was, Gabe was eager to explore his body in the same way Sam had his own.  
‘I want you to ride me, Gabriel. Is that okay?’ Sam asked, peppering kisses all around his mouth, but never on it.  
‘Hell yes.’ Sam finally kissed his mouth and Gabe leaked more precome as he tasted himself on Sam’s tongue.  
Sam stripped off his plaid shirt and jeans in record time, while Gabe watched, getting closer and closer to cumming.  
Sam gripped Gabriel’s arms tightly and as he lay back, he pulled him on top of him, allowing the shorter man to pull down his boxers as well.  
‘Wow, Sam. You’ve got a fucking porn star cock- it’s so big.’ Gabe said as he inspected it, leaking more and more precome at the thought of that being inside of him.  
Sam chuckled at that statement, before pushing Gabe back from him slightly, so he was kneeling over his legs.  
‘Open yourself up for me. I want to watch.’ Sam murmured. His hand had already gently wrapped itself around the base of his own cock.   
Gabriel held three of his fingers in front of Sam’s lips, which were pursed shut in arousal. Sam took them in his mouth and sucked long and hard, without breaking eye contact with Gabriel. Gabriel took them out and slowly circled his rim before pushing it in gently. Sam meanwhile was running his hands gently over his cock, anxious not to get too excited about this, but failing miserably.  
Gabriel held his finger still and instead moved his whole body on it, up and down, until he entered a second. And a third. He looked up at the ceiling, crooking his fingers as to widen himself for Sam’s massive bounty that was about to enter him.   
Sam was now pumping his cock in anticipation, a smile plastered on his face. He gazed at Gabe, so beautiful in this twilight, he thought, before Gabriel climbed back up Sam who was now reclining and positioned himself.  
Sam moaned loudly when his tip touched Gabriel’s rim. He slowly lowered himself onto Sam’s cock, sighing loudly. The stinging sensation quickly wore out so he moved up and down slowly, trying to establish a rhythm. Sam just gazed up in pure wonder and lust as this beautiful creature bounced on top of him. He leaned forward slightly, pressing his hands to either side of Sam’s head and moaned even louder, barely getting out a ‘Saaamm!’ As he hit his prostrate, hard. He moved like this, establishing a rhythm as he was pounded even harder and harder. Sam was making animalistic noises as he felt something warm grow from the pit of his stomach, spreading and growing until all of his limbs glowed and sung this ethereal harmony, while all he could do was moan and writhe underneath Gabriel until he screamed, spilling his release into Gabe.  
Gabe felt warm, sticky mess inside him and that was what made him come. He shouted and moaned as he continued riding throughout his own orgasm, spilling his come on himself and Sam.  
Once they were both exhausted, he slipped off of Sam and slept next to him in the bed, cradled by the giant’s arms.  
‘That was…’  
‘Something else.’ They both said simultaneously. They smiled, too tired to do anything else, before falling into a deep slumber.

When Sam awoke the next day, sunlight poured in through the window, as if poking fun of his misfortunes.  
Shit, fucking balls crap! Was all he thought as he pulled on his jeans and shirt, searching the room for his left sock. He didn’t have time to think of where Gabriel was right now- an alarm clock informed him he was half an hour late for Bake Off! And the coolness of the sheets made him think Gabriel had been gone for a long time. All of this plus a pounding headache and a vampire-like sensitivity to light made Sam think, this was not my day.  
He ran outside in a mad panic and hailed a taxi, telling the driver to step on it and get them too the studio, as soon as possible.  
When his heart rate calmed down considerably and he was on the road, he had time to reflect on last night.  
What the fuck? Was his only thought. Despite the fact they were extremely drunk, he could still visualize it all (much to the liking of his cock) and he didn’t feel any regret whatsoever. Only sorrow, for not waking up next to the same man he fell asleep with.  
When he arrived he jumped out of the cab and ran into the studios, diving into the elevator.   
Sam ran straight out of the elevator (thank FUCK it didn’t stop) and into the Bake Off! Studios. Every production member was in a state of panic, running about the place and looking like it was the goddamn apocalypse.  
‘Oh, Sam!’ Dean ran up to him and stopped about a meter away, the look of relief instantly turning into disgust.  
‘Shoulda showered man. Shoulda showered.’ Sam shrugged and began walking with his brother, across the set he knew so well.  
‘What’s happening?’  
‘We were hoping you could tell us that. If we don’t get this episode finished today we’re in the shitter with the executives AND the director and producer will have whoever’s fault this is head on a platter.’  
‘Well, I’m here- shouldn’t we get the cameras rolling?’ Sam said in wonder as he sat down in his make-up chair.  
‘What? Just you? Where’s Gabe?’  
‘How should I know? Isn’t he here?’  
‘Dammit Sam! You dropped him off, that’s the last anyone’s heard of him! Where is he?!’  
‘How should I know?! All I did was SLEEP WITH HIM JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!’  
‘Fuck, Sammy. No.’ Dean said. He didn’t bother to shout.  
‘Did you read the contract? You and him can both be fired permanently, with all pay handed back, by law, instantly, if you fraternize with any other cast member.’ Dean continued. Sam just stared at him in confusion.  
‘He probably realized that, Sam, and now where is he?’  
‘I… I don’t know. I woke up and he was gone. Vanished. I have no clue.’ Sam sounded hurt- and he was. He really did feel something for this shortie… sexual or not, he cared about him.   
‘I’m gonna go get Cas.’ Dean said, abandoning his make-up chair as he stormed off.  
Cas was by his workbench, reading through his self-written instructions one more time. His brother was late- unexpected but not really a shock to Castiel, who had gotten used to his brother’s antics.  
‘Cas, you gotta help me.’ Dean practically ran over. Castiel would’ve helped him out with anything in the world, to be completely honest.  
‘Sure, what is it?’  
‘Sam turned up. He and Gabe… they… they had sex. Now he’s gone. Where could he be?’  
‘What?’ Castiel initially said in shock. He thought it had been only harmless flirting, not leading onto something else.  
‘Um… I think I know where.’ Castiel said.  
He tore off his apron (which Dean found very sexy indeed) and started walking towards the doors.  
‘You coming?’ He said to Dean who was standing, still in a state of shock.

Once they were in the car, dean drove with Castiel’s directions. Once they were on the right block, Dean just kept on driving.  
‘So… our brothers had sex then…’ Dean said. There was a short silence, before both of them burst out laughing.  
When Castiel had finished wiping the hugely inappropriate tears from his eyes, he looked around.  
‘Here.’  
‘Here? This tourist trap? Really?’ Dean asked, sceptical.  
‘You don’t have to stop, I’ll get out.’ He said as he jumped out of the Impala.  
He walked into the art nouveau entrance and paid his ay to get to the top, where he was sure his brother would be. And when he got in the elevator with tons of sweater tourists, when he waited in the queues for what seemed like an eternity, and when he finally stepped out of the building, he was on top of New York.  
No time to think about the view, he told himself. He walked around the 4 sides, analysing each and every individual, until he was about to give up. Until he reached a short, long haired individual looking over the concrete wall unmoving, just staring.  
‘Gabe?’ Castiel said, watching him. He put his hand on Gabriel’s shoulder, but all he did was shrug it off.  
‘The one good thing in my life, ruined!’ Gabriel started. Was he still drunk? Cas wondered.   
‘The best opportunity in my life, wasted because of fucking lust!’ Yep, Castiel confirmed. Still drunk. Some tourists with kids started to pull them away, giving Castiel dark looks.  
‘Gabe it’s alright. No one knows. It can go back to the way it was, just think for a minute.’ Castiel said, eager to get between Gabe and the side of the wall before he did anything stupid.  
‘You think so? You fucking THINK SO?!’ Gabe tried to run into Castiel, but Cas caught him and held him close.  
‘I do, brother. I do. It’s okay.’ And then Gabriel started to weep. Soft, slow tears at the top of the Empire State Building.

Once they found the Impala again, Dean managed to drive tem back to the studios to tie it in with the end of lunch break, made up some sap excuse for Gabriel and then had his hair and make-up seen too. He was relieved- relieved more than angry, but was certainly going to have harsh words with Sam.  
Whilst they filmed, not one word was exchanged directly between Sam and Dean, and Sam and Gabriel. He didn’t even try to work, he just stirred and baked in a monochrome pattern, with none of his usual flair, Castiel noticed.   
When they were done with their quiches, they took them up to the judges.  
Castiel went first this time- the judges quite liked the parmeasean and sundried tomato one he’d tried, considering the emotional pressure he had been under.  
The others all went, including Gabriel (who cooked a spinach and oregano quiche, nothing to get excited about really) and the judges started talking.  
They turned to look at the contestants. Crowley began;  
‘We’re really sorry, Jo. You are no longer in Bake Off! 2014.’ Jo ran off crying, and Dean felt sorry for the little girl. She just wasn’t cut out for cooking though, truth be told.  
‘Next week is Pie Week, my favourite. Be sure to tune in, next week, to Bake Off!’ Dean said in his beautifully sexy voice to the camera as the contestants started to pack up.


	4. Chapter 4

It was a wonder and a miracle to Castiel that Gabriel hadn’t been fired from the competition. It had been one week exactly since… well, since… he couldn’t bring himself to say it, let alone speak it. Ew.  
Things between him and Dean had grown evermore close, they were now good friends, and Cas thought nothing of when Dean threw his arm casually around his shoulders, in fact, it made him go ever so slightly hot under the collar. Gabriel and Sam however, they were a different story. They never once looked each other in the eye, and Castiel assumed at the filming today things would be just as frosty and awkward. He couldn’t wait.  
Suddenly, a high shrill awoke him from his slumber. His bed was large, but it felt like an empty field today, engrossing him and making him wish more than ever that there was someone there with him. Or more specifically Dean.  
He rubbed his eyes sleepily before pressing the green call button on his beat up old Nokia and held it up to his ear without checking caller ID.  
‘Nughh?’ He said, his voice husky as he had only been awake for 5 seconds.  
‘Cas? Cas? You awake?’ It was Dean. Castiel smiled instantly at this thought, what a way to wake up. He closed his eyes and pretended that the voice was coming from next to him, and they had woken up together.  
‘Yes.’ Was all he said. He peered down the bed and he could see his morning glory almost upright, tenting the bed sheets considerably. He was going to have to see to that.  
‘Well, I was wondering, would you like to come for dinner round at mine tonight? I would’ve asked you in the studio but we’re under a tight schedule and I wanted to give you time to decide and i…’  
‘Dean?’ Castiel interrupted.  
‘Yeah?’  
‘You’re babbling. I’d love too. See you soon. I’ve got some things to take care of.’  
‘Sure, Cas. Bye.’ And with that he hung up.  
Little did Castiel know, his gruff and deep voice had made Dean just as aroused as he was. Dean shook his head, trying to think of anything else but the stubbly, sharp jaw line and the way Castiel’s Adam’s apple bobbed every time he swallowed. How he wanted to kiss them, tease his lips over every inch of Castiel- every inch- until he could remember every little freckle, hair and crease of the unconquerable mountain range that was Castiel.  
Dean promised himself that this dinner was going to be friendly. He would try nothing on Castiel at all. Most of his moves worked on everyone he had tried it on with before, but Castiel, the most beautiful man he’d ever met, was also the most elusive.  
Castiel, meanwhile, was trying (and succeeding rather easily) to think of nothing but Dean. His spiky hair, how it would feel to run his hardened palms through it and grip onto it, tug it lightly as Dean thrust in and out of him like a piston. Hearing Dean’s minute gasps and not so minute moaning every time he went deeper and harder. What it would feel like to have the amulet Dean never took off bounce against his chest every other second, the pounding getting more and more frequent until…   
Castiel came with a loud moan- he was always very vocal. His white release erupted from his cock in thick ribbons, covering his hand which was wrapped tightly around himself. Tonight is going to be very hard, he thought to himself. Trying to keep himself off of the sex symbol which had invited him round for dinner was going to be a near impossible task.  
Dean and Cas arrived in the lobby of the studio at exactly the same time, Castiel in his argyle sweater holding the door open for Dean, who had two cups in each hand.  
‘A cup for Sam? How nice!’ Castiel said as they walked together.  
‘Not quite.’ Dean murmured, gesturing one of the travel cups towards Castiel.  
‘Tea, right? Two sugars?’  
Castiel was astonished. This was the first time in his life that someone- anyone, had bought him something meaningful.  
‘Ugh… yeah… thanks.’ He managed, taking it and burning his tongue as he took a sip. He spluttered and spilt some on the floor, much to Dean’s amusement.  
‘It’s a bit hot.’ Dean managed through maniacal laughter. When he finished laughing however, he noticed Castiel hasd stopped walking and was just staring at him. It wasn’t a creepy stare, nor an awkward one. It was content, and Dean smiled a genuine smile when he felt those crystal blue eyes on his own.   
In actual fact, Castiel was mapping out every crevice, every line and contour of the perfect man’s face. He was… no, he wasn’t. He couldn’t be- they’d only known each other for three weeks! HE WAS NOT IN LOVE!  
Dean noticed Castiel’s face go from warmth to shock to horror very quickly, so he started to head towards the elevator.  
‘Come on, lets not dilly dally.’  
They arrived to the studio only a few minutes late, and no one batted an eyelid at the closeness of the two- they were never more than a meter away from each other throughout hair, makeup and debriefing. Always laughing and talking, laying affectionate touches to each others shoulders or waists and how they both wished their hands would go lower, without the other realising, and the other keeping their hand perfectly still for just a second too long to not ruin the friendship they had built.  
‘Alright, pies!’ Crowley shouted to get everyone’s attention. Everyone in the studio, form contestants to camera crew to make up artists turned to listen to the British man who had more power and authority than the director and producer combined.  
‘Let’s play it with less drama than last week, Gabe.’ Instead of laughing it off, Gabriel simply looked down at his designer shoes and swallowed hard. Sam did the same, but recovered quicker.  
‘And last but not least good luck. May none of your pies burn and your fruit be ripe.’ And with that, Crowley and Naomi ‘fucked off’ (as Dean put it) to wherever while the competition got underway.  
Castiel worked his ass off, if he did say so himself. For once in the entire day he managed to keep his mind off of Dean completely while he completed what he thought was his piece de resistance- his apple pie.  
Renowned to his family (well, Gabe) for it’s simplicity yet absolutely heavenly taste, it really was a showstopper if Castiel did say so himself. Even when Dean and Sam came round (Dean with a pat on the shoulder, Sam with the clearing of his throat, knowing that Castiel knew about him and Gabe) he managed to answer their questions and them brush them off completely, for his concentration was elsewhere- on his puff pastry, to be exact.  
Gabriel, Cas had noted, was going for a comical Banoffee pie in the shape of a banana. Go ahead, be more literal, Castiel thought has he placed the pie in the oven with as much delicacy as a midwife holding a newborn. Make a giant penis shaped pie for the guy you fucking slept with, that’s smart, Gabe, he thought when he started prepping the toffee ice cream to accompany it (ambitious for the two hours allotted but he needed to win… he just had to impress Dean). Not obvious at all Gabriel.  
And in no time at all, Crowley reappeared as if from nowhere with ‘Your time is UP.’ Castiel just had time to place four large scoops of toffee ice cream in the bowl next to the steaming hot pie when he heard Crowley’s voice.  
‘Bring your pies to the front.’ Naomi said with as much emotion as she could muster; none.  
Castiel took a nervous look around at the other contestants. Despite being vaguely penis shaped, Gabriel’s did actually look enticing. The others, Missouri, Balthazar and Pam amongst others, had gone for more traditional pies like Castiel; mixed berry, pear, apricot while Zeke had gone for savoury and others had just gone… crazy.  
Castiel watched the others go up, one by one. He already knew who was going to be fired, evicted… whatever. Missouri. Her rhubarb crumble would have been sublime if she hadn’t mixed up the sugar with the salt. It made Naomi gag and Crowley mutter ‘Tastes like lady come.’ Much to everyone’s amusment, except Missouri.   
Gabriel’s went down a treat, after the initial shock. Sam, however, understood whatever the hell it meant and feigned a banana allergy, just so that he wouldn’t have to have any of ‘Gabriel’s delicious-looking banana’. Castiel snickered at this as much as he tried to stop himself from doing so and caught Dean’s eyes, who was doing the exact same thing, except with a piece of pie in his mouth and whipped cream caught in his sexy, prickly auburn stubble. Castiel had to hold onto the worktop counter to stop himself from going over there and licking it off of him.  
And luckily he wasn’t next because he still had to calm down from picturing him and Dean having fun with whipped cream of different sorts.   
Eventually, though, it was his turn and when he walked up to explain his dish, Naomi stopped him.  
‘Let me guess. Apple pie. Some sort of sugar based confectionary flavour ice cream.’  
Castiel’s heart began to hammer away in his chest and his legs felt weak. Butterflies in his stomach threatened to jump out of his throat. All he could do was clear his throat and nod.  
‘Typical. It’s always done once a competition.’ Naomi muttered, looking like she was a teenager completing a chore when she took a bite of the apple pie.  
‘I, for one, thinks it looks sublime, Cas.’ Dean piped up from the sidelines. Immediately, however, Crowley put his finger up in the direction of that voice and said, without taking his eyes off the food, ‘Shut it, fool.’  
‘Go back to your workplace, Castiel.’ Was all Naomi said after her bite.  
He obliged, feeling so downtrodden all he could do was stare at the overly perky and now annoying pastel carpet. Maybe Missouri won’t be fired after all, he thought. After all, hers was just a mistake. They judges didn’t like my dish, hers would’ve been perfect without the salt. Goddamn it, Cas! Why do you have to be such an idiot! You should’ve gone for the pear and butterscotch! You stupid little shit! Why, Cas, why…  
‘And the winner is…’ Cas didn’t realise that he had been beating himself up all throughout the decisions. Damn it. His heartbeat, which had just slowed down to a relatively slow pace had now picked back up and was like a hummingbird’s, except heavier. God job all I’ve had today is that tea, he thought. Whatever I would have had to eat would be on my workstation right now, he thought, growing more pale and queasy with each passing second added for suspense at home but pure pain in the studio.  
‘Gabriel! Completely surprising… er, shape, but the taste certainly didn’t taste like penis.’ Gabriel got up and did a little bow, ever the performer, Cas thought. Now shit’s going to get serious. Dean looked on at the judges, his jaw clenching and unclenching sexily.  
‘And the person who will not be joining us next week is…’  
Shit.  
This is it.  
The end.  
It was fun.  
‘Missouri!’ Holy shit holy shit holy shit. Cas smiled (in the future he would grow to feel bad about that smile, as he was in full view of Missouri) and started breathing, unaware he was holding his own breath.  
Everyone got up to pat her back or hug her, including Cas, Sam and Dean. Cas, for what felt like the millionth time today, caught Dean’s eyes and smiled at him. Dean smiled back. The simple gesture seemed to speak a whole book of emotions Castiel was not ready to open just yet.  
Don’t. Be. Nervous. Castiel. He told himself.  
He had shown up to Dean’s swanky apartment five minutes late- fashionably late, Gabriel had told him. Not that Gabriel knew about this, or anyone for that matter. After the whole… Sam ordeal… he decided on Dean’s behalf to keep things on the down low between them.  
He knocked once and then twice, trying to create a pattern to alleviate the tension he was feeling. It failed miserably.  
Dean, meanwhile, was cooking up a storm in his large kitchen. Being a culinary genius (not his words, the New York Times) meant that the kitchen was very much the heart and soul of the house, and Dean was not one to compromise on room.  
He heard three knocks in a slight pattern at the door which made him physically jump. He couldn’t have been more nervous if it was a sniper at the door. The knocks sounded so self-assured and confident, it could only have been Castiel.  
He opened the door and was greeted with the thing he least expected (well, second-least); a hug. Castiel threw his arms around Dean’s lean shoulders and clung onto him for dear life. Dean’s mind went through a thousand thoughts in that one blink of an eye. Shit, not an erection. I can feel his heart. Our heartbeats are aligned. He feels so muscular. Imagine those hands holding onto your butt as you…  
And just like that, he was gone. His arms withdrew form Dean’s shoulders and he stood, awkwardly, a little too close. So close, Dean could smell the expensive, yet absolutely delicious cologne. It made him want to tear his shirt off and ravish him in the hallway, and it took every gram of self control he possessed to stop him from doing just that.  
‘Sorry, Dean…’  
‘It’s fine. I liked it, I mean the hug… I mean…’  
‘It’s just that recently with the competition I thought I would get fired and…’  
‘I said don’t mention it…’  
And Castiel started laughing.  
Dean joined in.  
‘We’re two giggling schoolgirls, Dean.’ Cas said in-between chuckles.  
Eventually their laughter turned to deep breaths and deep breaths to normal ones.  
‘Well, welcome to my crib, MTV.’  
‘I don’t understand that reference.’  
‘Never mind. Here’s the dining room, living room, bathroom’s just through there, the bedroom’s…’ He trailed off, walking into the kitchen.  
‘Welcome.’ Dean said, desperately trying to fill the awkward void that was filled by the mention of the bedroom.   
‘Well, what’s for dinner?’ Castiel asked, sitting up on one of the free counters and leaving his legs wide, his tight slacks showing a monumental bulge which Dean promptly thought;  
‘I need to have that inside me. Now.’  
‘Oh, risotto al funghi with fresh scallops, side of asparagus. Finest champagne to accompany your meal, sir.’  
‘Mmmm…’ Castiel said, which unfortunately came out like a moan and Dean closed his eyes and tried to think of Sam naked. Puppies dying anything but that rich, chocolaty, gravelly voice moaning as he reached climax…  
The meal went well. The food was the best Castiel had had in a long time, as he said to the chef many times, the champagne was excellent and the company even better. It was when they were taking their plates back out to the kitchen that things got interesting.  
Dean stood at the sink, putting the plates and dishes into some hot soapy water when he felt Castiel’s presence beside him. Really beside him. Too close for friends, really.  
‘Hey, Cas.’ Was all he could managed, silently praying that his penis was hidden.  
‘Hey, Dean.’  
And that was it.  
Neither of them can recall which one of them placed their lips on each other’s first, but they were there. Dean’s slight stubble mixing with Castiel’s, scratching both of their faces. Dean’s tongue poking at Castiel’s closed mouth, to which it opened and their tongues collided, playing with each other.  
Castiel’s hands went straight to Dean’s hair, to play, tug, twirl, pull- just about anything with them.  
Dean’s hands, dripping wet from the sink, went to Castiel’s waist to pull him closer and closer, until he could feel his heartbeat once again and their erections, trapped by clothes, were pressed against one another’s, teasing but not satisfying.  
Castiel started to move his mouth away from Dean’s to plant kisses, bites and lick up to his ear along his neck, which was met by moans which went straight to Castiel’s penis. In retaliation, Cas moaned too, to which Dean replied, in a voice huskier and sexier than usual;  
‘You like it when I talk? When I make noises?’  
‘Yes.’ Was all Castiel could get out.  
‘Bedroom. Now.’ Dean commanded.


End file.
